Second birthday in a row that sucked big time.

Last year sucked because there were too many people and I got tired from being a host. Not to mention the unkept promises by family members who were happy enough to relent to my wishes beforehand but “conveniently forgot” or “had other important things to do” on the day itself. Ended up having a pathetic game forced upon the visitors by my sister. I appreciate the effort but… what the heck? Sad, sad. (Also, I was already pregnant by then but didn’t know it. I felt bad the whole time)

This year sucked because of thesis submission at 6pm so I spent most of my day cramming the fucking table of contents that I thought was easy-peasy. Wasn’t able to go to Sarah’s with the others after because of a family dinner (I was late, by the way, because of the submission). I also felt that my outfit was too slutty – realized too late that the dress was too short and the front was too low. Of course, it didn’t escape nanay’s notice. I had planned to go to Sarah’s after but decided against it because I was tired and I might not be allowed anyway.

Also (and of course), boyfriend ruined the mood. He became withdrawn when I apparently reacted negatively towards his invitation for me and Drew to visit Bulacan. I had hesitated because I suddenly felt nervous – I’ve never been there and I’ve never met his father and older brother. Another reason was because mom had told me not to bring Drew over there too soon because he was too small. I told him I was scared and took it the wrong way, thought that I didn’t want to go (which I did want, for the longest time actually) and sulked the rest of the night. His sudden change of mood affected me throughout dinner because I didn’t know the reason why. He finally said it when we reached home and I explained why I hesitated (stating the reasons above) but APPARENTLY, he had decided that what he thought – about me not wanting to go at all – was right and didn’t listen. Our attention went to Drew and after I put him to sleep, I found HIM already asleep on my bed. Great.

I hate it when we’re together and he just… sleeps. It happens a lot, actually. It’s mostly because he’s tired from his job, but there are times when it’s because he partied all night or had beaten up someone for the frat the previous night. So we don’t even get to do normal stuff like watch tv together. Or I watch, he sleeps. That even happened in the movies. At first I was tolerant… later on, I’m so irritated, I can’t sleep. Like now.

Oh well, it’s not like I can sleep when he’s there. I’ve never been used to it.

I needed to rant out. It’s my birthday for goodness’ sakes, and though people are laughing and having a good time downstairs, they’re only Sandra’s friends who came for a visit. Me? I’m sitting in the living room, watching Julia Robert’s Biography on tv, wanting to sleep but not being able to, crying a little because of a completely fucked up day.

For a normal day, this was bad. For my birthday, this was abso-fucking-lutely awful. I need a drink.

Happy 23^rd birthday to me.  

I’ve just had this paranoid thought: what if he thinks that I’m the type of girl who sleeps around?

What brought about this idea was another paranoid string of thoughts of mine that goes around and around my head most of the time – that is, his previous reputation of being a playboy and his questionable faithfulness to me. I have to face the fact that he is indeed handsome (such a freakin bother) and that girls and gays alike practically chase after him because of his looks. The funny thing is, I wasn’t bothered by it at the very least at the start of our relationship. Now that we’ve reached our second year together along with a 6-month old son, I can’t help but become paranoid and jealous of past and present girls/ colleagues. The thing is, he keeps on insisting that he doesn’t entertain them at all, and that he doesn’t look at anyone else (but really, letting a girl rub her body all over him is not “entertaining them”?).

After the pregnancy (even during), I can’t help feeling that he’s already fed up and that seeing me fat and flabby and hormonal made him think that I was a huge freaking mistake. These thoughts are probably normal for a new mom but… I CAN’T STOP THEM. And it annoys me when I tell him and he brushes it off… and comments about a pretty model and how he knew her before. IT’S ANNOYING. Then I start to think about how a tiger not being able to change his stripes and my thoughts turn to probable affairs with other girls and dammit, we’re not even married. IT’S DRIVING ME CRAZY.

Then the initial paranoid thought entered because I was assuming so much to the point that I began thinking, what if he also assumes stuff about me? What if he thinks that I sleep around because I did it with him?

That really brought me down. Talk about uber-low self-esteem.

Damn it. Though I try to talk myself out of the slums by stating out the practical (like he has two jobs and he’s too busy to eat and sleep, let alone cheat on me), I still can’t shake it off. I guess I don’t trust him that well yet; it doesn’t help if he doesn’t make it easy for me to trust him. Then again, it might just be little ‘ol paranoid me – I’ve always had trust issues after all. And my fear about him thinking that I’m a slut? He once said that he didn’t care if I slept with someone else (I never had, and I took that as an insult by the way).

Besides… so what? What if he did think that? He’s still with me after all.

Ah… and now the question is – is he still with me just because of Drew?

Another paranoid string of thoughts underway.